A Name He Never Knew
by SomeoneElsesDream
Summary: Brotherhood AUish Caleb wasn't always so hard...once upon a time he loved a girl


**Title: **A Name He Never Knew

**Author: **SomeoneElsesDream

**Rating: **M – for coarse language and sexually suggestive material.

**Disclaimer:** All I own is debt…you can take that anytime you like. I have borrowed Ridley C James' Brotherhood characters for my own uses and promise to give them back when I am done. Any and all credit for these amazing characters belongs to Ridley and Eric Kripke for their creative genius.

**Author's Note: **This does not fit in with the Brotherhood AU created by Ridley, should you think it fits in somewhere…it doesn't…it's a fluke…ignore it. In case you're wondering, yes, I got her permission to use her nifty toys…erm…boys. ;) I had a theory after reading _Dream On_ by Tidia that there had been a relationship that wrecked Caleb forever. Tidia has assured me that I am wrong…but I couldn't let it go. This is my version of that relationship. Enjoy.

**Summary: **CalebReeves could probably tell you how many women he had been with, if he wanted to try and count. There aren't many he regrets, but this one…this one was the closest thing to a mistake he ever made.

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**St. Elmo, Colorado,**

**November 1995**

Colorado was really fucking cold in November. Reeves wished he had taken that into consideration when he agreed to do this stupid gig for Boone. "Simple woodland haunting my ass" he muttered to himself. Twenty years ago a hunter was killed by his friends and left to rot. It should have been relatively easy, find the bones and do a salt and burn, but this bastard had gotten strong over the years. Reeves managed to torch the sucker, but not before taking half a tree trunk to the head for his troubles. As he lay there, bleeding in the snow, Reeves remembered the look on John's face when he snuck off to do this one alone.

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"I thought that rule number one was no hunting alone?" Reeves shouldn't have been surprised that John knew he was leaving, but having his mentor pop in like this was a little startling. "Yeah, well. I never really read the rule book, you know that." Caleb stuffed the last of his clothes and supplies in the duffel before swinging it over his shoulder. "Don't take that tone with me Caleb, this isn't a joke." John put himself between the younger hunter and the door, not willing to let him go alone. "We don't hunt solo for a reason." "Shove off Johnny Boy, I'm a big hunter I can do this by myself." Caleb didn't mean for his tone to sound so condescending, really, but sometimes he felt that the older hunter still treated him like a child. "Damnit, I didn't mean it like that." Reeves tried to backtrack, but the look of quiet hurt on John's face made him hold his tongue. John sighed before moving aside. Although he knew he was in for a reaming from Mackland, he let Caleb slip out the door and into the night. Sometimes lessons have to be learned the hard way. As Caleb pulled out of the driveway he found his gaze locked on the dark form still silhouetted in the doorway.

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Man this sucked. The snow had started up again, already burying the path and obscuring his tracks. As his hope of rescue dimmed, Reeves cast out psychically to see if he could find anyone nearby. Flinching as the effort burned his already overused senses he nearly cried in relief as he felt the brush of another mind. He tried to be gentle as he pressed his need into her mind, but in his current condition he couldn't be surprised if it felt like a sledgehammer.

As the minutes ticked by, Reeves began to question if his saviour was going to arrive in time to rescue him or bury him. Fighting the powerful pull of sleep, he tried to wiggle his limbs as much as possible. With the snow still falling, he didn't want to risk being buried any more than he wanted to risk hypothermia. Though it was probably too late for that. As sleep was sucking him under, the last thing Caleb remembered was a flash of fire and eyes like the Oklahoma sky.

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She must be out of her mind. What the hell had she been thinking to go out into that storm, let alone dragging a half dead man home with her? As she half carried, half dragged the injured man inside she was grateful for the gun in the cabinet. Not that he looked like much of a threat in his current condition, but she couldn't let his wounded state fool her. At just over six feet, most of it muscle from what she could see, there was no way she could defend herself against him.

Reeves moaned as he registered the change in temperature. Warmth was something he had almost forgotten. Thanks to his nasty head wound, he found himself unintentionally reading the emotions of his companion. Fear came first, which he supposed was to be expected, but it was the tangle of genuine empathy and lust that had him reeling. No matter how many times he had played the _look at the poor injured hero_ card to score with women, lust always seemed to come first with sympathy a barely felt afterthought. Whoever this remarkable angel was, he would always remember the way even her feelings felt like a soothing balm to his overtaxed mind.

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Poor man is delusional, she reasoned, hearing him muttering to himself about lust and angels. The little hunting cabin was never meant for more than one person, being nothing so much as an open room with a semi-functional washroom attached. With a shrug to his modesty, she stripped him of his mangled clothing and tucked him into bed.

While the kettle boiled away on the stove, she pulled her first aid kit out of her pack. Setting some camomile tea to steep, she pulled back the covers to examine her patient. Whoever this guy is, she thought to herself, he's one helluva looker. In spite of being a little battered and bloody around the edges, no one in their right mind would ever say he was less than a remarkable specimen of a man. As she dabbed gently at the edges of a rather nasty gash on his forehead, he stirred a little in his sleep.

"Shhh" she whispered soothingly, "You're alright now."

"Johnny," he muttered, "I'm so sorry."

As she pressed her hand to his face she realized he was spiking a very high fever. With the addition of warmth, his poor body was trying to compensate for the cold. If she couldn't break the fever soon, it just might kill him.

Deciding quickly that his scrapes were the lesser of two evils, she tried the internal application of water to lower his temperature. This was violently rejected, leaving her grateful that whoever he was he'd missed dinner. With his skin already reacting to the earlier exposure, the risk of chilling him externally was too high. Not giving a thought to her own modesty, she stripped down and climbed into the bed.

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Soft. That was his first thought, his second was that she smelled really good. Something dark and sweet that made him think of cinnamon and sin. Still caught in the unrelenting grip of the fever, Caleb turned into her body, breathing in the sweet dampness of her skin. He felt himself harden, and unconsciously moved closer. She turned into him, still asleep, pressing her body back against his. He had yet to open his eyes, but he didn't feel the need to. This close her thoughts were his, and he moved gently through them, not knowing that her dream had changed until he slid inside her. They were neither one fully awake, bodies moving of their own volition. He couldn't help shaking, his fevered state sapping his strength. As he spilled himself inside her she came awake. With her jolt into reality shocking him, he opened his eyes and realized what he had done. Collapsing on her chest he tried to pull away, but his body betrayed him. All he could do was whisper _I'm sorry_ over and over in her ear.

"Shhh" she whispered, running her hand along his sweat-soaked skin. "It's alright. I've got you, you're safe now."

Over and over as he cried and shook, through the long night she kept whispering, _you're safe_, until finally he slept. When she was sure he was asleep she slid gently from the bed. How could she have thought for a single moment that he was safe, that she was safe with him? This poor, beautiful, broken man. However unwittingly, she had let him into her body; she needed to be sure not to let him in her heart. He was dangerous enough to her without that.

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His fever raged through the night and into the morning. Keeping him cool was relatively easy; keeping him immobile was nearly impossible. With each spike of fever he got worse, muttering madness about demons and fire. He kept asking for someone named Johnny, kept trying to apologize. Near noon it got so bad, she was forced to restrain him. When his tormented mind registered the bonds he got worse, screaming for someone named Mac to come and save him. She watched from the little table trying, and failing, to distance herself from his pain. He hadn't been lucid in hours, but the still raging storm made it impossible for her to get him help.

Through yet another long night he fought, struggling with the limitations of his body. Near dawn on the second day the fever finally broke.

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She was dozing at the table, head cradled in her arms when his voice woke her. "Were restraints really necessary?" Talking felt like sandpaper in his throat. She jumped up to untie him, pressing her hands to his face, smiling when she realized the fever had broken. "I'm glad you're finally back with us." Caleb startled, looking around for another person. "Us?" He questioned before taking the water glass she offered. His hand shook badly, causing him to spill most of the liquid on his chest. She reached out to help him, wrapping her hand around his on the glass. At the casual contact Reeves flinched. All her thoughts were jumbled, chaotic, and it was all because of him. Fear and guilt warred for dominance, with pain and pleasure twisted together in the middle.

There were so many things he wanted to say to her. So many versions of the words _thank you_, and _I love you_. Not _that _kind of love, or even a friendly kind of love, but something close to in-between. He wanted to say these things to her, to make her understand his feelings. For reasons he couldn't consider, he wanted to make sure that she understood that, even though this thing between them was fragile and strange, and he knew that better then anyone, she was safe with him. She would always be safe with him.

"Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are? I know that sounds like a line, I've used it, but I mean it." Caleb had the pleasure of watching her eyes widen for a moment before she got herself under control. "How do you feel?" She asked, not looking him in the eye. "I'm fine." Caleb took a deep breath, smiling at the scent that still clung to her skin. She still had a cinnamon scent, but now it was mingled with his own. "Are you alright?" He asked, reaching out to take her hand and frowning as she slipped gently away. "Please don't." she whispered, "Just don't."

"If I've done something to offend you…" Reeves trailed off, needing her to admit or deny what had happened between them. What was still happening between them. "It's nothing." She shrugged, "Just a bit of cabin fever I expect." Caleb watched her bustle about the small cabin, tidying things that were already neat. "What's your name?" He asked, "I'm…" She threw her hand up to stop him, startling him. "No. Let's not do the name thing, because it's…" She hesitated, turning away from him. "I may have helped you last night, but I don't want to know you, not really."

Caleb had never been so shocked in his life. Wrapping the sheet tightly around his waist, Reeves pulled himself out of bed. As he moved uncertainly across the small room, she backed away, putting the table between them. "The storm's passing, I'll be able to take you into town this afternoon." She still wouldn't look at him, and he couldn't bring himself to probe her thoughts, he was too afraid of what he would see. "I never meant to hurt you." He whispered, collapsing into a chair. "Don't worry cowboy," she smiled weakly. "You can't break something that's already broken." Reeves looked up just in time to catch the haunted look in her eyes. He was not the first man to hurt her; he was just the first to do it unintentionally. Clenching his fists at the thought of some man purposely inflicting pain on such an amazing woman, Caleb wanted nothing more than to do some hunting of a different kind.

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A few hours later they were making their way slowly back into town. The ride was silent, neither knowing what to say after everything they had been through. When she dropped him off at his truck, Caleb tucked the image of her into his mind. She didn't wave as she drove away, never looked back. Reeves supposed he should do the same, cauterize the wound and move on. Right.

As he drove the long highway home, Caleb was starting to wish she had never found him. Never nursed him through his fevered delirium, worrying and caring through the long days and nights. The feeling it left him with was close to ecstasy, but it's sudden and inexplicable loss was too painful. He would rather have gone through his whole life without knowing that such a thing was possible, and knowing he couldn't have it. God he was pitiful. It was one thing to sacrifice yourself for the greater good, but another to destroy yourself for a person who you knew, fucking _knew, _couldn't be a part of your life. Reeves had always considered himself independent, solitary, but one small taste of love and he was as desperate as anyone else.

Reeves had pulled some pretty stupid shit in his time, and most of it was his fault hands down, but he's not sure who to blame for this one…or if blaming is the right thing to do. Does he shake his fist at God? Or does he pat the Devil on the shoulder and just say _thanks, thanks for this._

There are scars you wear on the outside, plain for the world to see, from all the battles won and lost. Then there are scars you wear on the inside, buried deep down underneath everything else so even you don't have to see them. This one's going to leave a mark.

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**Author's Note: **I know that I am but a feeble amateur compared to Ridley and Tidia…but be nice and don't flame. If either Rid or Tidia is reading this…let me know what you think…especially Tidia as this is her fault entirely. ;)

I am working on a larger Brotherhood story (also not related to what the ladies are doing) as Ridley has created such a fun little world to play in. Come back and check it out…or not…whatever.


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